There were no rabbit hat extractions,
Floating pastel scarves,
Or fluttering dove wings
But it was magic nonetheless.
Circled in the warmth
Of comfort arms
Grace released her mouth
From her mother's breast
And broke her verbal silence,
“All done.”
Of the 23,000 or more words
She will come to know,
None can now precede
“All done.”
But how much more magic
Is yet to come?
Torrents of words
Will tumble out in nano-seconds
To bring the treasury of
Stored experience to her lips -
Questions and declarations
To shape and guide her universe.
Magic miracles
Born of Grace and Providence.
I hear your words dear child,
But beg to differ.
You have just begun.
A soft piece, filled with the wonder of words and the love of little people. A tender hearted grandfatherly sort of poem. love, Allie xxxx
What a charming observational piece, Howard. From the suckling safety of her mother's breast to that lengthy voyage toward finding her niche in the expansive universe. Enchanting indeed! Kudos, Greg
The journey of possibility that is this precious and priceless life is only just beginning, but what a remarkable starting point to set out from, and to have chosen as such by the very wise writer of this tender, loving poem. You are the magician here Robert. Spellbinding writing with very gentle and hope filled exit lines. jim
Goldy, I think that grace just hovers in the ether and drops by without calling ahead.
how does one preserve grace. is it about undoing what's been done. can s/he just stick it in a jar (or veiled hat) & come back for it next wk, month, year, ....Goldy
Very gracefully and tenderly written. Just beautiful, Robert. Warm regards, Sandra
Good stuff, Robert... even magical in a way. Life is full of wonder and you've written a wonderful poem to prove it! ! Brian
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a lovely thought that Grace's life is just beginning...and what a unique way of showing this! Great poem, I love it.